The Time Lord of Amber
by Alexander C Wolf
Summary: My mother was Deidre, princess of Amber, sister to King Corwin of Amber, and Aunt to King Merlin of Chaos.  My dad was a little more complicated than that, but he was a Doctor, one of them anyway & an Arch Demon wants to have me for dinner, as an entree.
1. Chapter 1

This story is written in the first person. As such the grammar reflects a person who is speaking in the first person and not as a person who is dictating to an official scribe to write things down for posterity, and may contain fragments that are actually part of a thought process as a whole. If this causes you distress then please place this book down on your list of things to read latter and start with a "Dick and Jane Reader"… See Dick Run.

I apologize if I seem in a foul mood… Four big strong assholes tried to kill me today. Under the circumstances I think I'm doing well.

My mother was Deidre, princess of Amber, Sister of Corwin.

My dad's a bit more complicated than that.

Step number one: Get through the pattern. I put the trump that my mother had left me back in the deck. It was a trump of the pattern itself. Now I saw before me the actual Pattern. It was Corwin's pattern, A duplicate, and restored, version of the original pattern that lay beneath Castle Amber.

If you don't know what I'm talking about then go to, .org/wiki/The_Chronicles_of_Amber, and call me in the morning.

As good as the trump was… to see it in person was like going from black and white to 3D in high definition. It was magnificent. Here was my chance. I had thought it through several times. My mother had laid out a plan of attack for me but as much as I had thought about it I couldn't find any faults with it. Not that I thought mom had it in for me… I did however make a few modifications. What the hell?

I turned my IPod onto "you're a crazy bitch" and took my first step on the pattern. It worked. I wasn't dead. That was a huge relief. Almost so much so that I almost forgot to keep moving, in which case I would be dead anyway. The experience was what I would expect liposuction to be like. I was being stripped away of parts of my body and soul, flesh and blood, with every step. Painful is an accurate word for the experience but it lacks intensity. More like going to a biopsy on your testicles, by was of you're spinal column. I fought back the urge to hurl and to give up. I figured that if I was going to go down I was going to do it falling forward. Then I broke through the first veil. I finished the first veil with the IPod on "for those about to rock" by ACDC.

The pattern had stripped away a plethora of bad body habits. My weight was where it should be, my diabetes, asthma, and a couple of other things were gone. The Pattern had given me a reboot of my ability to regenerate with a little head start.

I felt good. As I started the second veil it was more difficult than the first, but my strength had increased much more. Piece of cake. My IPod was on "waiting for the hammer to fall" by Queen.

3rd veil. So much for the piece of cake. My shoes had turned to lead. Each step was beginning to get heavier and heavier. Sparks around me were beginning to burn my nostrils and lungs. They weren't doing much for my eyes either. My IPod seemed to be stuck on "Bullet with Butterfly Wings" by Smashing Pumpkins.

4h veil. I was back to the going out by falling forward concept. My IPod was on "The Final Countdown" by Europe. As I negotiated the pattern my IPod choose songs such that I began to see a pattern forming. Pun most definitely intended.

Through. I did in fact fall forward. Face first. My now quite broken nose was a painful reminder that I hadn't really trained or prepared for this. Normally walking the Pattern requires a fair amount of preparation. I made it. Hell yeah!

That's when I noticed the four assholes running the pattern right behind me. A-hole's number 1 and 2 were on the second veil already, while A-hole 3 was on the first, and A-hole 4 was just starting. These were the same four A-holes I had ditched at my place. I had used the trump of the pattern, like mom's letter had suggested, but these four bloodhounds were good. How they found me so quickly I had no idea.

My IPod was now playing "Two Minutes to Midnight" by Iron Maiden.

How did they find me that damn fast? They had walked the pattern in Amber just after I had disappeared. Once they got to the center the pattern would send them to anywhere they desired. That's how the got to this pattern, my uncle Corwin's pattern. I knew this to be fact. Fatigue was setting in. I could see it in A-hole number 3. A hole number four was beginning to catch up to him. I wondered what would happen if the person in the lead suddenly failed to complete their next step and died in front of you.

I pulled out "my little friend" a 40 cal. Taurus semi-automatic pistol. I took a couple of shots at the lead guy, missed badly. My Taurus "24/7" was a good gun, but alas a 4" barrel handgun wont hit shit beyond 100 yards, no matter how good you are, and a moving target decreases that significantly.

The smart thing to do would have been to use the pattern for what I had originally intended to use it for. Get the hell out of Dodge. However, I wasn't known for doing the "smart" or "safe" thing.

A-holes 1 through 4 were all going to the same place. The center circle where I stood. That meant that they would all have to exit about three feet in front of me after a long had and tiring trek through the pattern, which was their second such feat in the same day. I was a pretty damn good shot with my pistol out to about 30 feet. I counted off the distance and fired a couple of shots just so I could get the ambience right. The pattern had given me an almost perfect sense of timing. I had about 92 seconds before A-hole #1 was in the kill zone.

I started to imagine a place, with every conceivable detail in my head. No sense in asking the Pattern to sending me to a random location after all.

71 seconds….

I added and subtracted from my mental image of the place I was to go. Refining this place in great detail, with a little bit of poetic humor to boot.

IPod: "Highway to Hell" by ACDC

30 seconds…

I swapped magazines to I would have a fresh one. One in the pipe, with fourteen in the magazine, I never keep a magazine loaded to its max. I value reliability, and prefer to have "non-sticky" magazines.

23 Seconds…

When A-hole number one got to the kill zone with A-hole 2 on his heals, I let loose. My shots rang true and my "21 gun solute" his their mark. The first shot hit A.H.#1 in the chest and I could see the look of panic on his face. He was no slouch though. Ten feet and 16 rounds latter he dropped, and A-hole number 2 stumbled on his body. I put two rounds in A.H.#2 s back for good measure. They both went up in flames, bright yellow and orange flames, with a hint of green at the base of the blaze. I had spent a lot of time living in Phoenix Arizona so the sudden rush of heat felt good against the cool 68 degrees of the Pattern's ambience. Two down two to go.

What happened next actually made me more concerned than before. AH#3 and 4 were right next to each other. That's when #3 turned a curve and doubled back towards #4 and then A-hole #4 took out a long curved blade with a weighted tip and cut #3 cleanly in half. By the time #4 caught up to the "remains" all he had to do was jump over the smoldering mess not about the size of a cherry bomb.

About 120 seconds till he reached me. The smart thing to do would be to go to the special place I had constructed in my mind, that the pattern was so conveniently obligated to send me to… and put distance between him and I. Then again I wasn't known for being smart, I preferred to live life on the edge of the envelope.

84 seconds

I did a round count. I redistributed my magazines, so I had 15 rounds ready and in my last magazine. I practiced counting so that I would squeeze off all 23 rounds and have at least six seconds to spare, including two seconds to change clips. With one second per round…

59 seconds

23+2+6 = 31 seconds… at A-hole #4's rate I would have to start shooting at about

31 seconds. Bang. Direct hit.

3o Bang. Miss, to far to the right

29 Bang. Left shoulder

28 Bang Center of mass

27 Bang, miss – Tried a head shot

26 Bang, grazed the skull… took off some left hear… nice, ineffective but nice

25 bang, miss – he was getting smarter, dodged to the right

24 bang, miss – damn he was good.

23 bang, miss – this wasn't his first time being shot at

22 bang, direct hit, center of mass

21 bang, direct hit, center of mass

20 bang, direct hit, center of mass

19 bang, direct his center of mass

18 why didn't he try to throw something at me… I thought must be tired.

17 got a good look though, it was taking a toll.

16 it occurred to me that this was enough lead at this range to drop a rhino… or at least a large pig.

15 Bang. Hit, forehead/top of the head. He now had a small reverse Mohawk for a haircut. Nice, but it just pissed him off.

14 Bang. Hit center of mass.

13 he had several wounds in his chest. I decided to dump the headshots and go for his wounded chest. He had to have a heart somewhere

12 Bang hit, center of mass. Magazine out

11 drop magazine

10 reload.

9 Bang, Bang, Bang just going for the sore spot in his chest

8 Bang, Bang, Bang He was close, less than eight feet away now.

7 Bang, Bang last one hit, I made every round count…

6 I was rather proud of myself

5 obscene gesture, he was still running, and he was going to make it

4 Hmmm? I thought to myself, should I run the clock just to make him mad?

3 Definitely, mooned the guy. He had a great look at the "sun don't shine spot"

2 To my happy place. I instructed the Pattern to send me to the place that I had "created in my mind"

Last second. I was very impressed. The prison that I was currently occupied, was on the edge of chaos. Seemingly floating in space. Inside the prison cell were a few goodies that I thought I might need for the next leg of my journey.

A PXT tactical 14 – 45 by Para-ordinance with a Black finish with gold engraving on it in the likeness of the Jack of Spades.

A 2nd PXT tactical 14-45 by Para-ordinance with a Black finish with silver engraving in the likeness of the Ace of Hearts. There was a picture on the grip of a bullet going through the left ventricle. Vicious, but I liked it.

There were eight magazines total. Black Talons in the mags. The magazines were extended 40 rounds each. Nice that. They had the likeness of the 3 and 4 of hearts, spades, diamonds, and clubs, engraved on them, respectively.

A bulletproof vest, class 9. It had a likeness embroidered on it in the likeness of the Queen of Hearts with golden threads.

A few other things that I had conjured up as useful, hardly worth mentioning, like a small nuclear device, with about 20 kilo-tone yield for example that fit on my belt and had a heartbeat sensor linked to my heart just in case someone had the bright idea of torturing me. It had engraved on it the likeness of the Ace of Spades.

After I had adorned my new threads I checked the time. The prison were I was had a unique little twist to it. Time here traveled about 1000 times faster than it did at the Pattern I just left. With only one second before AH4 made it to the end of the pattern, I had about 15 minutes before he could show up here, provided he could manage to articulate to the pattern that this was where he wanted to go… He may not though, I had messed him up pretty bad, and he had to know I would set an ambush, which I had.

Oh well, I had to get on with it.

The prison door had a password that had to be uttered correctly in order to open. If you failed the attempt then you were forced to relieve the worst romantic relationship they had ever experienced. It was an educated guess, but anybody who followed me here, I was betting had at one time a really painful relationship, the kind you're friends all try to warn you about but you go ahead and date the bitch anyway. You could only try the password once every three days.

I uttered the password, which had to be spoken in ancient Greek, which I happened to know, "Dia Logos" which roughly translates to "password". The door opened and I stepped out.

8


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Step Two:

Negotiate the Logrus. The Logrus stood before me. Like the Pattern the trump didn't do the real thing justice, as good as the picture was. The Logrus was the opposite of the pattern. The Logrus was a maze, but an ever-shifting one. In it were all the fear, footfalls, and stumbling blocks that chaos could imagine with an infinity of time to think them up. I was exhausted and realized that I didn't have what it took to get through it, much less even start… or something like that.

Mom, was no dummy tough, I'll give her that. I wish I had known her, Deidre, Lady of Amber. I took the last object that she had left me in the safety deposit box I had emptied just one hour and thirty seven minutes earlier that day.

It was a vile of liquid. It looked thick and very nasty tasting, with various colors of blue swirling around in it. Not unlike the Logrus itself. I contemplated the insanity of drinking such a potion based entirely on the handwritten letter from a woman I had never meet, but she hadn't steered me wrong so far. Besides the Pattern had cleared my head. I knew this to be true, either that or I was completely insane and didn't know it.

I drank the potion. Whole. The promise didn't disappoint. I was completely rested and ready to go… it beat the hell out of Starbucks! I looked at the engraving on the vile that was in a language that I could read now… it said, "pan galactic gargle blaster mark 2." The language was datascript.

I afforded myself a few minutes take a gander at the Logrus. It reminded me of a music video about a near death experience. It would be fun to negotiate this maze. Then again, I must admit that I was having more fun now than probably ever… Just the idea of AH4 sitting in that prison reliving the worst night with his worst girlfriend ever brought a smile to my face. Choose your girlfriends carefully, my priest had always told me.

With that, as I was getting ready to jump through the Logrus' front gate and begin to negotiate the ever changing maze / music-video-about-a-near-death-experience A-hole #4 suddenly appeared in front of me. I turned around only to find AH4 (pronounced "ah" like "ah-ha" four) on the ground in a bloody mess. He looked like he was in no position to put up a fight but I wasn't in the mood to take any chances. After all about two hours earlier (my time) AH4 had broken into a bank, killed several people that I'm quite certain didn't deserve it and try to kill me while I was studding the contents of my Mother's mysterious safety deposit box (more latter in the pre-quell).

AH4 was currently getting an excellent view of the orthogonal grooves on the inside of the barrels of the Jack of Spades and Ace of Hearts 45 caliber "bad guy stompers" that I had picked up in the "prison".

"Don't shoot" he pleaded with me. I could see now the AH4 was a vampire. He wasn't in good shape either.

AH4 whom I decided to call Auhfoor, which stood for "Ass Hole Number Four", decided to speak. His voice was raspy and definitely betrayed a man who had had a very bad day.

"You -

The eight and half minute dissertation that followed was not suitable to recount in case small children might read it. He began to tell me exactly what he thought of me and he didn't hold back. After about two minutes I decided that it wasn't suitable to print under any circumstances. I was however very impressed with it. In fact, after about three minutes I was really rather enjoying myself, although I did my best not to betray my amusement with my glance. Six minutes into it I was very impressed with Auhfoor's literary and oratory prowess. He said things about my mother that I didn't even think possible. The whole soliloquy was very well thought out and organized with a lot of practice. It occurred to me that if time had traveled 1000 times faster in the prison than here than he would have had about two weeks to practice it all. It showed. It was very polished in deed, almost like Shakespeare meats "Texas Chainsaw Massacre". As he was about to conclude his own personal "to be or not to be" from hell he sensed my amusement.

I was really disappointed. I'm sure the conclusion would have been spectacular. Oh, course my twin handguns dislodging 240 grain slugs at 750 feet per second towards his personal space would have been a real dampener on his conclusion.

He stopped his diarrhea of the mouth, his testament to over-acting and I spoke to him instead.

"How did you escape?"

"Password." He said, "That was clever."

"How did you finally discover it?"

"I made a boon with an arch-demon." I laughed hysterically. I could see this didn't go over well with him. That made it even more funny.

"And what did that cost you?" I asked of him, the vampire Auhfoor.

"You." He said with a smile. He knew something that I didn't. Something important.

"The demon now seeks you for his prize, and that he will consume your powers and install himself as a Lord of Amber over all of shadow."

I shrugged, and starched myself. This did not improve his disposition. I gave Auhfoor a personal introduction to the Jack of Spades and Ace of Hearts. When he died he simply turned to mist, and misted off. Vampire, bloody hard to kill. I made a mental note to get a magic flame thrower. Or a plus five super soaker filled with holy water.

God have mercy on my soul because I was actually enjoying myself. Among the useful things hardly worth mentioning from the prison was a key to a vault with enough money in it to buy Camelot, maybe even a seat on the United States Senate. I couldn't wait to open it. Funny, four vampires try to kill me, An arch demon sets his sights on me, my mother turns out to be a princess with supernatural powers, and the thing I'm most excited about breaking open the piggy bank. What can I say, it's the simple things in life that count.

The Logrus now lay before me. It was like a recurring nightmare that when you woke up you realized that you weren't really awake but you had just awoken in another nightmare, just as bad as the previous one. First I was being buried alive. When I by shear force of will dug my way out of a coffin with stones and dirt on top of it… I found myself on top of the graveyard, where ghosts, and goblins came for me. A shambling mound of a human corpse came lumbering at me, with a few dozen of his closest friends. I wasn't sure if a slug for a 45 would do anything against him, but what the hell I aimed and fired anyway. Much to my surprise the slug penetrated deeply into his chest, and black nasty smelling fluid poured out of his wound. He fell to the ground… with a groan just like the ones you see in the "B" movies. His friends fell just as easily, they weren't very fast but they were many. 30 or so slugs latter, with a lot of stink latter, they were disposed of.

Note to self: (Acquire shotgun 12 gauge or **larger**). King of Clubs would be a good motif for engravings on it.

The rank bile from the zombies began to soak the ground. It seemed that there was just more and more of the vile liquid. Soon the graveyard was becoming like quicksand, and the tombstones were the first to start sinking. I managed to walk six feet, which under the circumstances I was a very proud accomplishment and grabbed hold of a large crypt. As it slowly sank I managed to get on top of it. A tree branch hung low. The trees seemed to not be sinking into the ground so I found my way to the branch and clung for dear life. The crypt vanished beneath the muck and I was doing my curious George impersonation on the tree.

That's when the vines of the trees began to curl around my neck. I needed a sword. A pistol wasn't going to hack it. I started grabbing for branches, anything with a sharp edge on it… that's when I broke off a branch and it transformed itself into a long curved blade with a weighted point. I cut at the branches and made short work of the vines. I fell onto the much.

I looked at the blade in my hand and then began to understand the Logrus. As the chaos around me was ever changing trying to kill me… I to had power over chaos. I would will changes in it as well. The Logrus was brute force, but my will was skill and cunning. It struck me that this was much the opposite of essaying the Pattern. Which didn't strike me as surprising at all.

I sank into the ground up to my knees and willed there to be solid ground. A few solid stones appeared out of the much and I stood on them, but the Logrus was persistent. I began to jump from solid stone to solid stone only to have the Logrus reclaim each of them. But it was the Logrus that was fighting them… not the swamp. The swamp was a metaphor, a real one mind you, but a instrument of the Logrus non the less.

With the pattern the idea was to defeat it by getting to the end. Here you defeated it by simply escaping. As I walked from stone to stone I now walked with a purpose looking simply for the way that I had entered. It almost seemed to easy, and the gate from which I had entered appeared before me. The Logrus made one last attempt to grasp at me in the from of a dark hand made of a semi solid mist. He missed and I ducked through the entrance.

As I stood there. Back at the entrance I knew that I had successfully negotiated the Logrus. The hand that had attempted to stop me, didn't actually miss, but had clung to me and I pulled it out of the Logrus with me. It was much bigger than I had thought. It was mine to form, and make what I would with it. My mother's note had explained that this might happen, and that she instilled many memories and experiences in her diary, a diary that she had enchanted for me to use in the Logrus. I drew upon its magic now and there in my hands was my mother's diary. But its simple demeanor was not lost on me. As I picked up the diary it became a drawing on my own skin. I could take that drawing and transfigure it back to the diary. I did so and opened the pages. In it were my pistols and magazines. I could draw them out of the diary at anytime and put them into my hands. Like pulling a rabbit out of a hat.

There was much chaos around me still. I decided to refashion myself. I needed a disguise and it seemed like the time for a change. I made myself a new person. Ten feet tall, blue, with amber eyes, the Navi never had it so good.

Next stop, a ride through shadow…

8


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3, Journey's End._

_Ok, now that I've got a second I'll sit down and take a breather. _

_A quick stop by the metropolis of Journey's End was an excellent way for me to go shopping and pickup a few things that I would need. This particular city is like New York meets Camelot. You can get lost here easily, you can also find just about anything. In mom's safety deposit box was a key to a vault here in Journey's End._

_After a quick locate object spell I found the most magnificent bank I had ever seen. It was made of jade and marble and was about 10 stories tall._

_I had my own personal vault, or rather mom had, that she left me. There was enough money in that vault to by a small planet. In the few days that followed I went on a spending spree that would have made any Hollywood starlet proud, of course my shopping was for things like shotguns, kabanas, Klingon style knives, explosives, a dragon skin coat (Dark blue), a worg- which is like a dog only about the size of an elephant, this one was a trained riding animal. I named him JohnWayne, after one of my favorite actors._

_JohnWayne resembled a Doberman in color and in the head with broader shoulders and stockier legs, and of course eight feet tall at the shoulder and about 2500 pounds. I paid the extra 20k and got one that had champion hellhounds in it's blood line. Nothing like a fire breathing dog to keep you company._

_His breed was bread to be imprinted on one specific person and I was happy to oblige. JohnWayne became my dog, and I became his person..._

_After a couple of days of spending mass amounts of overflowing cash I did a quick count and conversion to Pound Sterling. Walking the Pattern had somehow made me a lightning calculator… I was really good with trivial numbers that had little value. I was worth about six...Trillion pounds. It was good to be a Lord of Amber._

_6 Trillion_

_453 Billion_

_912 Million_

_120 thousand _

_and 422 pounds_

_rounded down. Close enough._

_Time to buy a bottle of 2378 B.C. Elven Wine… _

_Maybe I could find a tall blue lady to dance with… _

_See you in the morning…._


	4. Chapter 4

Wanted – Dead or Alive.

Chapter 4

Its a special kind of fool who likes the sound of his own name... In this case it was my face on a wanted poster. Fortunately it was my old human face. It looks like my big blue disguise was a good idea. The amount of the reward was a bit excessive 25 million pounds. Dead or Alive.

Time to get the hell out of dodge. With a 25 million pound price on my head someone was sure to get wise to my disguise. It was time to take the fight to the bad guys. Why someone was after me was beyond me. Something about me was worth killing a lot of people for. It was also worth 25 million pounds… assuming the person who placed the bounty would kill the bounty hunter upon my delivery.

Now it was time to form a plan. My first obstacle was that an arch demon tends to be pretty powerful… and assuming that he was behind the wanted poster or not, it didn't change the fact that he was after me. There was also the nasty business with Auhfoor who was also presumably still after me, or at least waiting in line after the Arch Demon.

The "Arch Demon" needed a name, since I didn't have one I decided to call him Bob the Destroyer. Or Bobbie for short. Bobbie was to complimentary a name so I strained my brain to think of a more condescending one… I wouldn't want to offend any Bobs out there. I decided on Stanly Hitchcock or for short. Or maybe just "S".

I had to get away… and I had to do it fast. There was a huge gap in knowledge and power between me and the people pursuing me. I couldn't get lucky forever, I had to gain in power and knowledge of magic before I stood a chance against "S" and Auhfour.

I had to gain time. Of course, when you're me that shouldn't be a problem. I needed to do a hell ride and find, or create a shadow where I could gain the knowledge and power I needed to at least be a threat to the people who wanted to drink my blood. I didn't even have to overpower them. I just needed enough ability to give them pause, enough brute strength to make their lackeys wonder if chasing me was a good choice of healthy professions.

The funny thing about wanted posters is that they all have a return address on them. The person who places the bounty never thinks of that. This one was no exception. I took down the poster and placed it inside Mom's diary.

Time to find a bigger gun, a more powerful spell, a heavier hammer… a meaner looking dog.


End file.
